


The Journey 1 of 3: A Thousand Miles...

by BuffyAngel68



Series: Losses and Gains [2]
Category: White Collar
Genre: Other, mention of self-injury (past)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-11-07
Updated: 2011-11-07
Packaged: 2017-10-25 19:28:44
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 5,022
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/273907
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BuffyAngel68/pseuds/BuffyAngel68
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>How did Neal end up in the relatively sane, pulled together place he'd made it to when the new season started? El, Peter, a whole lot of TLC and a smidgen of butt kicking. Part 1: 72 hours past the airport and Neal is essentially catatonic. First job? Dangle a carrot that he desires more than he wants to stay lost in his head...</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. 1

Disclaimer: Don't own beautiful boys... men... men who act like boys? Other people own them and I made no money off this little adventure... though if I was in the God-chair, you know perfectly well what we'd be seeing on screen. I might even find some gorgeous male to get Jones smiling on a more regular basis. Hand them over USA! I know how to give them what they need!

\---------------------------------

Peter gazed down at the broken figure lying on his couch and raised a hand to his face, pressing the palm into his eyes. He simply couldn't move forward with what he'd been commanded to do. The object dangling from his other hand once meant almost nothing to him. It was a tool of his trade; a collection of plastic, wires and components with no particular emotion attached to it. Now, however... now it had a nasty connection and flooded him with even worse memories. The ankle monitor disgusted him.

A small hand settled on his shoulder and squeezed.

"Honey... he barely knows we're around. You're not going to hurt him or make anything worse."

"Damn it."

"I feel the same way, but you were both given a break under the condition that the monitor goes back on. If you don't do it... three weeks of leeway turns into fifteen minutes. They'll come and get him *now*. I was there when Hughes offered you the deal, remember? It was a promise and he'll keep it, you know that. He can't afford not to."

"For God's sake, El... it's one more blow, one more betrayal... one more loss he shouldn't have to suffer. Even somebody as strong as Neal Caffrey can only get knocked on his ass so many times. The plane was already too much. This godforsaken modern version of a ball and chain..."

"I know, Peter, I get it. He's already sacrificed so much for the promise Fowler made him. It shouldn't be. You and Neal both have to deal with the mess that bastard left behind, and that shouldn't be either... but it is. You'll pull each other through all of it, but it starts with doing this. Without the monitor, nothing else can get fixed. If you want..."

"No. No, I may hate it... but I won't dump the job on you. Thanks for the offer, though. Love you for making it." he told her gruffly, his voice hitching and breaking.

Shaking his head slightly, desperately fighting the scary jumble of emotions pulsing through him, Peter knelt down beside the couch and, as gently as he could, re-connected the monitor around Neal's ankle. As he rose to his feet again, he turned directly into El's waiting arms and clung to her.

"Good... I said you could do it. Good job, honey..."

"That really, *really* hurt..."

"I know."

"You were right, he barely twitched..."

"He'll come back to us, Peter, I believe that. We just have to give him a strong enough reason."

Abruptly, a particular memory from the airport came rushing back to the older man, a bit of conversation repeating itself over and over in his mind. He pulled back from El's embrace a bit and smiled at her, receiving an echoing touch of a grin from her in response. "Peter?"

"I may have an answer. Can you put me in touch with some of your contacts in the art world?"

"Yeah, of course. What are you thinking?"

"Something Neal said to me right after the explosion just sparked an idea. I only hope it works."

"Hey, me too. Let's go make some calls."

\----------------------------

FOLLOWING DAY: EARLY AFTERNOON

Perched on the edge of the couch, Peter stretched out a hand and sifted his fingers through the back of Neal's hair. The young man still lay with his face to the couch cushions, shutting out the world that had so casually shredded first his heart, and then his dream of reunion with Kate and a life of freedom together. His chest tightening to the point where it was becoming difficult to breathe, the FBI agent sent up a silent, but fervent prayer that what he'd arranged would succeed in bringing his young charge around. If Neal didn't begin to eat and drink soon, there would be no point in worrying about him being hurt or possibly killed in prison. They could skip straight to the morgue.

"Neal. I know you hear me. Everything sucks right now... that's a given. I know you feel like just laying back and fading into the sunset... like maybe that's your best option. The thing is, El's getting really worried about you, bud. She's determined not to let you go and when she sets her mind on something, believe me, she gets it one way or another. She'll pull out all the stops to keep you around. And I won't do any less..."

Sliding his hand down, he squeezed Neal's shoulder. "There's a surprise present for you in the garage. I think it'll help with... everything. Go check it out, okay? Please. For yourself *and* for Kate."

For the next two hours or so, Elizabeth kept her husband constantly busy, knowing that otherwise he'd be checking every five minutes to see whether Neal had taken the bait they'd put out so much effort to secure. By the time she finally released Peter to go and look, the sight of the vacant couch brought such a huge grin to his face that El covered his mouth to help hold back the whoop of joy.

"Yes, I see it, Peter." She responded, hardly able to keep a rein on her own elation. "Now we give him a little more time."

"What?! El..."

"This is a good first step. Trust him to take the next one, too."

"No pushing?"

"No pushing."

"God, this is hard. Just standing around, *hoping* things turn out right... I don't *do* things that way! I need to wade in, use my hands... start picking up the pieces, slapping the glue on and putting them back where they go."

"When was the last time you saw me stay in the background when an event I'd been planning went sideways? I want to help him too... but the best way to do that is let him decide if his life is worth taking back. Okay?"

Peter nodded, hugged her tight once again and slammed the lid down on his doubts.

\------------------

It took another twenty minutes before a light rap on the kitchen doorframe interrupted a discussion of what the couple would make for dinner. El looked up to find Neal wavering in the entrance, his expression so lost and uncertain that she ached intensely.

"Neal? Sweetheart?"

He stayed silent, staring for a few more seconds, then turned and moved off the way he'd come. El began to follow, but Peter kissed her cheek and held her back.

"I'll go."

"He likes chicken doesn't he?"

"Yeah. Cacciatore is his favorite, I think."

"That's what we're having for dinner."

With a soft smile and another brief hug, Peter left her to begin the preparations and trailed his charge out and down to the garage. He found Neal gazing at the materials that had been carefully piled there early that morning. After a moment he looked to Peter, confusion in his eyes, as if asking what kind of present this was and what he was supposed to do.

"It's everything you need to re-create the statue. I thought maybe if you made another one... one that would never be destroyed... you'd feel like you got to say I'm sorry after all."

Neal shifted his gaze back toward the house. "Yeah, she got all the stuff here. I told you, the woman is amazing. When she wants something done now... it happens."

The younger man shuffled over and reached for the tools laid out on a large piece of cloth on a long unused workbench. It had been thoroughly cleaned, however, in anticipation of the plan working out. "Those are from your place. June brought them over. She said to tell you anything you need or want... it's yours, no matter what."

This news engendered only a momentary trace of a smile, but even that was a huge victory and Peter's heart leapt again when he saw it. "You don't have to even touch any of this. I just thought... I hoped..."

Neal used both hands to vaguely wave his friend and mentor back inside, giving Peter's spirit another boost. "Okay. Great. I'll uh... I'll bring out some water?"

A slight nod. "Alright. Dinner should be ready soon. One of us will come out and let you know when it's ready... if you don't smell it and come running first."

The indication this time was in the form of a pointing hand. Peter accepted the gesture, stuffed down all the words he so wanted to let go of and hurried back to the kitchen, interrupting El's cooking by lifting her off her feet and spinning her around and around.

\----------------------------------

TBC.......


	2. 2

The Journey: 2/3: One Step Forward, Two Steps Back

Summary: Just when week 2 seemed to bring progress, a setback and a revelation rock the Burkes and one member of the larger family.

\----------------------------------

"Peter... honey, stop, they're clean..."

"No. Not yet. I can still feel it... I smell it..." he mumbled, continuing to scrub his hands, even though the skin was becoming red and irritated. Together, Elizabeth and Jones pulled Peter bodily away from the kitchen sink and guided him into a chair at the table. The other man then returned to shut down the tap. He grimaced slightly at the abrupt silence, even though he greatly preferred it to the chaos the normally peaceful household had been embroiled in since he arrived over an hour earlier.

Sighing, he moved to re-join El, who was still trying to calm her distraught husband down. "I have to get it off... I can't leave his blood on my hands..."

"Peter, listen to me, alright? Neal will be fine. The wound wasn't as bad as it looked, Clinton tried to tell you that..."

"And I accept it, that's not what got to me, El. You didn't see his face... see what he was about to do. I was so shocked, I just stood there. I was almost too late..."

"I don't believe it, boss. Caffrey? He wouldn't. He doesn't have it in him."

"If you'd been here the past week you wouldn't be so skeptical." El countered. "All the same... I'm not sure I believe it either."

"El, I saw him..." Peter shot back.

"I know, and I'm not calling you a liar. I just have to wonder..."

"Let's go talk to him. Get answers straight from the source." Jones suggested.

Peter snorted.

"Yeah, good luck with that."

"Wait... you're saying he's been like that all week... like he was when I bandaged him up?"

"Pretty much. He grunts, points, nods and shakes... it's better than the first three days, but not by a lot. We can't thank you enough for getting here so fast, by the way. I knew that medic training of yours would come in handy."

"I'm just glad I could help. I understand how vital it is to keep this off Hughes' radar. Especially if Neal did... you know."

"He didn't." El insisted. "You're right, it isn't in him."

"Hon..."

"No, Peter. It might have ended up that way if nobody had found him... but this is about something else. We have to take a shot that he'll open up. He has to start talking again eventually. All w can do is try."

"Yeah... if Bulldog Haversham lets us get within ten feet." Jones reminded her.

El smiled softly.

"Oh, I think he will. If I ask nicely."

\-----------------

Though his expression revealed nothing and he wouldn't admit it even under penalty of death, Moz was sad and frightened as he reached out and traced the edge of the bandage carefully taped around his best friend's left forearm. His voice tense and brittle, he grumbled at his friend.

"I knew I should've rescued you sooner. A week with the suits and you're mortally wounded."

Neal reached out and lightly tapped the smaller man on the side of the head. "Okay, okay... but look at this... Who says they didn't take the opportunity to implant something, huh? A GPS chip in case you ever cut the anklet again... a miniature explosive so they can just eliminate you the minute you get out of line..."

This time the corrective strike was a little harder. "Ow! That's it, I'm shredding all your 'NCIS' DVD's..."

A light knock on the doorframe brought Moz's head up in alarm. He only relaxed when he saw the other three waiting for permission to step in.

"Enter." He offered.

Elizabeth strode straight to the pair and leaned in to lightly brush Moz's cheek with a kiss before she took a seat next to Neal. She was amused at the bald man's momentary blush, but wisely didn't make a comment. "Neal, are you okay now?"

He gave a quick nod. "Can you tell me what happened?"

This time there was only stillness and unwillingness to look into her eyes. Peter and Jones approached slowly, the senior agent lagging far behind, his expression betraying his worry and reluctance. Finally the younger man stopped and gently nudged his boss ahead of him.

"Hey..."

"I helped him like you asked me to. Now Caffrey needs you."

"I can't..."

"Yeah, you can. You're the only one who really knows him. Go on... go help him just the way you've been doing all along."

"I... damn. Yeah..."

Making his way to the couch, Peter folded himself carefully onto the floor at Neal's feet and gazed up at him.

"Talking yet?"

He received a tight, there-and-gone smile and a shrug in response to his question. "Neal... c'mon, kid. This could be a big mess. I swear, Hughes never needs to know... but I need you to talk to me. I'm beggin' you to explain... to tell me it was nothing but an accident."

Neal hesitated and scowled, clenching and unclenching his hands over and over. Finally, he gestured to the cooling, untouched cup of tea sitting beside Mozzie and it was placed in his hand. After few measured sips, he gave it back and forced out a few almost inaudible words.

"It started that way."

"What changed it, sweetheart?" El asked gently.

"I... I'm not sure I know. The tool slipped. I wasn't trying to... but I saw the blood..."

The explanation faltered and Neal turned his gaze to his best friend, pleading with him to continue. Moz's eyes widened behind his glasses.

"But... you said nobody hears that. Ever. My name is precious to me, damn it, I don't wanna change it!"

"Then don't. You and me... it stays the same, always, but the rest... He needs to know, Moz. He deserves to know, and I can't... I can't. Please."

"Okay... I guess. But if any a'you ever flap your gums..."

"My honor. We *all* promise." El told him, one hand in the air.

"You I believe. Them..."

"Mozzie." Neal admonished quietly.

"Yeah, yeah. Okay... the thing is, it's impossible to know what being on the run is about unless you've done it. Weeks and months at a time with no let up in the pressure and the stress... he needed a powerful outlet that wouldn't leave his mind or his body too badly scarred. You never know what a con's gonna require, after all. When everything got too much, he used to find one of those tiny sewing pins or a small needle and stick himself a couple times... usually in the arm or the hand and just until it bled a little bit. A day under a band-aid and nobody ever knew the difference. He's moved so far beyond that... I would've sworn he'd forgotten it completely. Getting hurt today... it must've brought the memory back."

Peter went starkly pale and braced one hand on the floor until he was sure he wasn't going to lose consciousness. Jones fell back a step and let his feet stay slightly apart, trying to steady himself. El also was assaulted by dizziness, but she chose to assuage it by drawing Neal into her arms and holding him fiercely.

"Oh, Neal... I wish I understood..."

"It used to make everything easier..." he sobbed quietly into her neck. "... it let me breathe and focus when the world was closing in on me. The pain from losing Kate... it was getting better. The statue was working, just... not fast enough. When the tool slipped, I saw the blood and I remembered... I thought if I could make it a little bigger... or match it on the other arm, maybe... I just wanted to feel completely better, right now... it used to work..."

"And that's when I walked in?" Peter asked, confusion and pain filling his eyes and mildly cracking his voice.

Apparently through with conversation, the younger man nodded one last time. Peter tentatively gripped Neal's hand, but the squeeze he received back made him wince slightly. Jones, having recovered his faculties, recognized when it was time to back off and caught Mozzie's eye. The smaller man scowled and shook his head at first, but eventually he rose and stalked over to join Neal's colleague. Once they made it into the kitchen, Jones halted Moz by lightly gripping his arm and turned the other man to face him.

"I need you to believe something, here, okay? I'm not Neal's enemy and I'm not yours. If I was, I never woulda come running when Peter called and asked for my help. All I've ever tried to do... all *any*one who works with him wants is to help people and make things right when they get screwed up. I can't speak for agents outside our team. There are always gonna be bastards like Fowler, you know that. I'm just asking you to trust who Peter trusts."

"He does seem to be a pretty good judge of character... maybe... I guess. Okay. For now." He qualified. Jones released him and shook hands briefly.

"Thank you. Can I ask what the thing with your name was about? Why would you have to change it?"

"I suppose, now you're in the inner circle... You ever heard the term Mother Of All Secrets?"

"Yeah, of course. It's your biggest, most important secret. You only trust it to somebody you know in your heart and soul won't ever hurt or betray you."

"Right. Well... I fulfill that function for Neal. He got tired of saying the whole thing, so one day... he just boiled it down to the initials."

"M.O.S. Oh... I get it. MOS turned into Moz. Very cool."

"I think so and I'm not giving it up."

"You know... Neal's got way more secrets, right? He has to have."

"True. Hey, I only let that one out because he asked and Mrs. Suit made that promise for all of you..."

"I know, I'm not asking. I'm just thinking you'll never have to change your name. You'll always be his secret-keeper."

"Hell of a lot better than WormTail, that's for sure..."

Jones burst out laughing.

"You telling me you're reading Harry Potter?"

\-------------------------------------------------

TBConcluded


	3. Chapter 3

The Journey 3/3:

Summary: Peter and El are doing all they can to help Neal, but nothing's working and time is running out...

\-----------------------------------------

"Is he any better?"

"I can't tell. He's still not talking much. He's just sitting there watching T.V."

"That's bad?"

"He's watching 'Cops', Peter." El clarified, her exasperation leaking through the facade of calm she'd been trying to maintain for the last two weeks. "As of... five minutes ago, he 's on his second hour of a four hour marathon. You have to do something."

"Such as? I've tried everything, honey. He's not giving it up any time soon."

"You have one option left and you know it. You just refuse."

"El, c'mon..."

"Compassion failed, waiting him out failed... go in there and piss him off, Peter. It's the only way."

"You can't tell he's already there? I push him much harder and he's going one of two ways. Either he'll break through, break down and end up ready to go back to work..."

"... or he'll never forgive you. This doesn't make sense. Why is he suddenly so angry? It's only been the last four days..."

"No clue. He's gone back to not talking, remember? At least not to me. I don't know what to do."

"Neither do I, but we *have* to keep trying. The timetable Hughes gave you is almost up. We have less than a week. If we can't reach Neal in six more days, he goes back to prison. I know how much it's going to hurt, but you have to get through to him before then. I'm not losing that boy. I'm not."

"He's no boy, trust me. Plus... hurt? That's not even close..."

El reached out and pulled his head around so that their eyes met.

"I understand."

"What? No... no, hon, I swear..."

"It's alright, Peter. Whatever he is to you now, whatever you want him to be... we can talk about it later. First you have to make sure there *is* a later. You have to help him put his head back on straight."

"El... for God's sake... how can you be so calm and-and..."

"I said I'm not losing Neal. If that means eventually I'll end up sharing you more than I do now... I can roll with that." she assured him, placing a soft kiss on his mouth. "Now go. Get in there and save him again."

Peter stared at her, his expression twisting slightly in silent protest, but a few moments later he surrendered. Returning her brief, gentle kiss, he turned, drew and expelled a slow deep breath and strode forward. The words he had to speak stuck in his throat at first and ripped him apart inside, but he knew they were closing in on the end of their leeway, and eleventh hour moments called for eleventh hour tactics.

Steeling himself, Peter stepped between Neal and the television and popped the power button with the flat of one hand, darkening the screen and abruptly shifting the room into silence. Under normal circumstances, Neal would have loudly protested, but the moments and hours they were all currently struggling through were far from average. Neal sat forward, but merely gazed at Peter without speaking, his misery and fury striking the agent in almost tangible waves. After a moment, he rose slowly to his feet and began to walk away, only to find Peter standing in his path.

"Don't..." the younger man tried, the word just barely audible.

"Don't what? Hmmm? Don't try to keep you here, where you belong? Don't push, don't butt in, don't give a damn? No dice, pal. I'm done with coddling your sorry, self-indulgent ass. The pity-party is officially over, Caffrey. We have six days before they toss you back in that hell-hole of a prison for two and a half more years. Six days to turn this around, get you back on track and back to your job. I refuse to let you waste that time as a lump on the sofa, brooding over why you weren't smart enough, strong enough or fast enough to save Kate. We clear? No more."

"You think that's... I can't believe you..." Neal spat, whirling on his heel and moving away from Peter.

"What am I supposed to think? You were... we were *all* doing really well. Then you start avoiding me like the plague, acting like you wish I'd never been born. Damn it, tell me what I did so I can fix it."

"Nothing."

"Oh, really? I can hear the rage you're holding back... I can see it in the way you're shaking."

"God... I can't do this with you, Peter. You see too clearly, you know me too well... and you care too much. Any other day, any other situation, that last one would be... it *has* been an amazing thing and it's healed a lot of wounds... some I didn't even know I had. This time it's just..."

"Okay. So what can I do? How do I help... without helping?"

"Call Lauren."

"Cruz?"

"She's what I need."

"Why?"

"Peter..."

"Got it. No questions. I'll go... give her a call."

\---------------------

"Thanks for doing this." Neal offered, his voice still a bit creaky, despite his earlier confrontation with Peter. Grinning ruefully, he sipped at a bottle of water before continuing. "I'm sure they had to twist something to get you to say yes."

"You kidding? No way. I was just thrilled you finally decided to talk to *some*body. I don't understand why it's me... but I'm not complaining."

"Peter's too close. El and June wanna mother me. Moz... most of the time he doesn't know what to do, so he stares and does a great imitation of a carp then runs away. You... you're neutral. Sort of."

"Jones?"

"No. He was here during... let's just say it was a bad scene and leave it at that. You're it, Lauren."

"Peter said I'm allowed to pass on information. To tell him what you tell me."

"Yeah. If being my intermediary isn't something you..."

"No. I can absolutely handle it. So? Spill the beans all over me."

"Like it's that easy... " he retorted, beginning to pace. "Look, we both know what I am. Not exactly a secret, right? A genuine good guy isn't anywhere on the list, but in Kate's eyes..."

"Hey, you are good. You've got an incredible heart. Peter knows."

"I'd be more sure if he'd show that faith more than once a month Sometimes, I swear... you all think I wanted nothing more than to get back in the game, that I couldn't resist. That's not *true*, damn it. It was about her. It sounds nuts, I know... but there were times, when I did something really *right*... when I was on and I could talk a mark out of damn near *any*thing... that Kate looked at me like I was Superman. I can hear you thinking it. Keep it to yourself, okay?"

"I just told you, I know how big a heart you have. If anybody found out I was the one who stomped on it, my name would be mud in the office for at least a year. On my honor, my lips are sealed. Might do you some good to say it, though."

Neal huffed and grinned tightly for a moment over her not so subtle hint before he conceded.

"Okay... I was Kate's masterpiece con. I wanted so *bad* to believe, even though deep down... I knew it was nothing but another lie. When she said she'd been kidnapped and needed my help... the hope that always sucked my brain dry was right there again and I chased it. For once... just for once, I wanted her to look at me like a hero and have it be real. She always felt like we were meant to be together forever... told me once it was that or go out like Butch and Sundance. I fell for that, too. The only options I could see out at the airport were save her... or be with her."

"And Peter stopped you. That's what all the anger is about."

"Pretty much. I don't think I can ever forgive him for making me stay here..."

"Whoa. You're saying you hate him for loving you?"

Neal's head snapped around and he looked at Lauren with such clarity and intent that she felt her pulse stutter and her breath catch as he suddenly realized how beautiful he truly was, in all aspects.

"Why would you say that? What could possibly make you think anything of the kind?"

"He smiles." She eventually responded. "The whole time you were inside, that was something... he just didn't do at work. Here, at home, I wouldn't have a clue because none of us ever got close enough to earn an invitation except on the holidays and everybody's fake and formal at times like that. Once you were in the office day to day, it was like he turned into somebody I'd never met... in a really good way. You challenge him, you make him work harder and think faster to keep up with you... and it's like he's been waiting forever for that to happen."

"He loves Elizabeth."

"Yeah, well... his heart would give yours a run for its money. There's way more than enough room for you."

Neal studied her cautiously then shook his head and backed away.

"No. Not possible."

Lauren grinned at him broadly.

"None so blind..."

"Care to elaborate?"

"That look you craved from Kate? Every time you figure something out or see something nobody else did, just for a second... that look is all over Peter's face. You get so wrapped up in the mystery and the planning I'm not surprised you've never seen it."

"One example."

"The warehouse, when you helped save that big-wig's daughter... before he muzzled it to be sure nobody else saw, the pride and the love were shining out of him like he swallowed the damn sun. You go back and look at the news footage. You'll see."

For a long time, Neal would say nothing more, simply letting his eyes drill into her as though he were certain if he did it long enough he would force her to confess the lie or the prank. Finally he moved close, touched her shoulder, pecked her on the cheek and whispered his thanks in her ear before moving out of the room.

"Peter? Peter..."

"I'm here. What is it? Is your arm okay?"

"It's fine. I need to get out for a while, go take a look at something. Can you drive me?"

"Yeah? Of course. Lemme find my keys and get some shoes on. Where are we going?"

"Work."

\------------------------------------

END


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